


white rum is for the bosses

by 5674l



Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [5]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, back at it again and far too soon but I don't have a lot of restraint, very implied though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29607360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5674l/pseuds/5674l
Summary: Tommy goes back to Birmingham! And he immediately comes back to London.Such is the allure of business, innit?(read this as a standalone, or don't, either way here it is.)(but it does follow on from nightmare.)
Relationships: Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: in the mud or moonlight, I know you [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137518
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	1. it's not my fault that business requires me to talk with bastards that I hate

It had been two weeks. 

It had been two weeks and everyone was celebrating the high of having the Shelby Company Limited on an upward trajectory towards success and therefore, real freedom.

In the dark parts of the night, Tommy admitted to himself that somewhere along the line, he’d experienced freedom. Alfie had fucked him through his bed, and Ada’s floor, and everything had quieted down, the shovels had disappeared and he was just a man. His mind had been liberated. He didn’t have to be in control.

His body, however, had been pinned down, _you’re mine for now_ , utterly at someone else’s mercy. In a perverse way, it was like the moments he’d almost been shot. Those made his mind go blank with fear and then he felt nothing before the aftermath, where he felt like he was floating and sinking, everything a hive of activity in his mind. It made him go numb and set his mind racing. 

With Alfie though, he couldn’t go numb. He felt it all without wanting to. His mind still raced, his heart still beat against his chest, and a calm came afterwards, and he didn’t go numb.

He hadn’t cried after the second time, didn’t know why he had in the first place. It had been a long time since he’d cried before then. Maybe it was just a testament to how much Alfie could make him feel. 

_Fuck._

People had been asking questions, and by people he meant Polly, because he had to tell her about Grace and about how she needed to be provided for, and Polly had taken one look at the state he was in and raised an eyebrow. The bruises hadn’t faded. Bruises. They weren’t fucking bruises but it’d be easier to call them that.

“Didn’t know she had it in her. Grace, that is, to do something like that.”

He answered without thinking. “This wasn’t her, Pol.”

Polly had only smiled at that.

“Good. That woman isn’t good for this family.”

He had stared after Polly in resignation as she walked away. If only she knew.

He needed to organise a meeting soon because for all everyone refused to accept it, everything was in the air. He still needed a meeting with… with London. 

And what the fuck was all that, with Churchill having a mission for him? He despised it. Campbell had dragged him in this mess and now once again, he was killing people for the fucking crown. The man was taunting him from the fucking grave.

He tried to drag his head out of the mud in France and in its absence, the fucking toffs would try and bring it to him. The war. He vowed that he’d try and escape the moment he could.

He wanted to throw everything to the floor, the papers littering his desk, but it’d be a fucking mess and he didn’t want to have to clean it up and especially not at this hour. The only person left was Lizzie and they still weren’t on speaking terms. He didn’t blame her. He just gripped his cigarette and hoped it sufficiently felt his anger as he blew smoke into the air. It was like satiating some nerves or something, smoking. 

He hadn’t had a cigarette in Alfie’s house. 

Maybe, if that was the only time they’d fucked, he could’ve blamed the whole thing on wanting to settle his nerves. It wasn’t him, just his body. But he had done it again. 

It was too late to blame something else and he wondered if he could just say it was Alfie’s fault, the whole thing. The man provoked him enough. 

It had been two weeks and there was an itch beneath his skin and he didn’t know what it was and he was resolutely ignoring that he’d had a brief reprieve from it when he’d worked a hand around himself and imagined being watched by a man who looked like sin when his profile was lit by firelight.

He let his head fall limply into his hands.

The whole thing had scared him so he hadn’t touched himself since and he was on edge but at least he wasn’t thinking about, about all of it.

The phone rang.

“Hello, Mr Shelby?”

“Hello Ollie.”

-

“Sit down, Lizzie.”

She hadn’t forgiven him yet. He didn’t fucking blame her, not after everything, but he couldn’t ask anyone else for this.

She stared at him.

He appreciated her silence, even though he knew its cause, and also that she managed not to glare at him. She wasn’t quick to anger, Lizzie. She wasn’t meant for this life, not really, but she had to be in it. He wondered if that’s what applied to him as well. 

“Do you have the diary?”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Good. Good. Clear the next few days for me, up until Friday and then clear your own, too.”

She looked curious now, “Why?”

“I have to draw up new contracts with Alfie Solomons, for the betting licenses we got from Sabini, we-”

“I thought only you were gonna get those. Only Shelby Company Limited, that is.”

“Yeah we are, we are, but Solomons,” Alfie, “has to be spoken to, because he still has a hold in London, still has the trust of his community. We can’t uproot him. What we need to do is negotiate which of his bookies are gonna be allowed in and when. As well as what’s gonna happen to Sabini now.”

“I thought Sabini was finished?”

“He is, yeah, almost, but he still has some of his territory and Solomons will want to move in on it. Point is, Lizzie, me and him need to draw up a deal and I’d like you to come with me.”

“To London?”

“Yeah, to London. As the company grows, we’ll be taking new people into employment and more people will have to rise through the ranks but I don’t know how many of them I will be able to trust. S’why I need the people I do trust close with me. And I trust you, Lizzie. Come with me to London. You can uh, you can enjoy the sights there as well.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Why do we need so many days?”

“Like I said, for the sights. I’ll meet Ada or something. No use in going for only a day. The actual appointment is Thursday.”

“Why aren’t you taking John and Arthur?”

“John is actually gonna come, Lizzie, but Arthur doesn’t exactly have the best feelings about London or the people in it.”

“Right, yeah, he was yelling about freedom and killing some Jewish man when he was stood up on the tables.” Hah. What would Arthur do if he found out? Would Alfie do him one better and shoot him?

Outwardly, Tommy scoffed and shook his head. “Fucking Arthur. Nevertheless, I’d like you to be there, but I could convince him instead, if you don’t want to come.”

There was a pause.

“I’ve always wanted to see London.”

He was relieved to hear it, he really needed someone with him so that Alfie couldn’t try anything, he didn’t know where they stood because they hadn’t spoken since, well, since any of it, and John didn’t like negotiations, he was likely to try and run off somewhere to get piss drunk. If he brought him inside a fucking distillery, there was no fucking telling what would happen.

“Thank you, Lizzie.”

-

They arrived at Ada’s house and she, miraculously, wasn’t trying to avoid them out of dislike for the company.

John lifted Karl up in the air and started to laugh, bouncing him in his arms.

“Ada, Ada, my kid’s been waking up at all sorts of hours the past few months, almost forgot they stop being terrors.”

“Yeah, certainly doesn’t feel like it at the time.”

“Believe me though, they outgrow this stage too. Wait a few months. When he knows how to ask for stuff, you’re fucked.”

“John! Don’t use that language, not around Karl you fucking-”

John and Ada devolved into some argument, laughing all the way through it and Karl giggled up at the two of them. 

Lizzie smiled at the two of them and Tommy was reminded that once upon a time, her and John might have gotten married. 

“Lizzie, eh, look at me.”

Her expression was indescribable. Some vague cross between happy and sad. 

“I promised you sights, didn’t I?”

“Yeah you did but Tom, listen to me, I know you’ve got business. Just, just leave me here with Ada and take John with you. You can tell me what stuff I need to note down, afterwards.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.”

She smiled at him sadly and moved past to hold Karl and Ada looked at her, relieved.

“Thank you Lizzie, I can’t trust this bastard to do anything, God knows how his kids have managed so far.”

“Oi!”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad, Ada, I mean they have survived so far.”

“Yeah, barely.” John watched the two of them like they’d committed some great crime against him but Ada waved him off before he could protest.

“Go on you two, I don’t want Karl near the telephone line or he’ll try and wrap it ‘round himself like a scarf.”

Tommy watched them go into the living room as Ada walked towards him and wondered, briefly, if his kid would be like that.

“Hello Tommy.”

He nodded, “Ada.”

“What have you all come to London for, then?”

Something was strange about her tone. He looked at her and she was fucking smirking. It didn’t suit her.

“Business, Ada.”

“Really?”

“Look, it’s nothing I-“ he collected himself, “I thought you weren’t interested in our business anymore. Or should I invite you back in?”

“No, no, I don’t think I’d have time between actual work and the meetings and rallies to work for the mighty Tommy Shelby. So, who have you come to do business with?”

“I thought you didn’t have time to work for me.”

“This isn’t about your _business_ , Tommy,” She rolled her eyes, “I was just asking _who_ you’re doing business with. As a concerned sister.”

“What reason do you have for concern, eh?”

“None, if you just tell me.”

He sighed. “Mr Solomons.”

“Ohhh, so Alfie.” 

“Ada, I’ve come because we need to draw up new contracts and-”

“I said I wasn’t asking about business, Tommy.”

She just smiled at him and walked away and he looked up to wonder what the fuck he had done to have people annoy him like this. If it was some great sin, and he’d committed many, it still shouldn’t warrant _this_.

-

John came with him.

He’d never actually brought someone with him to a meeting with Alfie before, and the one time someone that wasn’t him went there, one got killed. The other got locked up.

He wondered if this would be considered odd, bringing John, and what Alfie would think about it, but he viciously reminded himself that he didn’t actually care what Alfie thought.

They’d never been entirely alone with each other in the bakery before anyways, Ollie had always loomed over them like a bad omen and Tommy wondered, actually, why he hadn’t brought some form of protection with him before, seeing as Alfie always had some. Not that Ollie could really do much. 

He’d brought James with him, that one time, but he could hardly have done anything either. He hadn’t been in the room with them. He was like Ollie, slightly: tall, awkward, no real standing if it came to a fight.

Alfie had never been alone with him until two weeks ago. When Tommy had called him. And every time they were left alone together…

“Tommy, are you alright?”

Tommy turned in the car to see John looking at him with something that look a lot like alarm (and a bit like concern).

“Your hands are turning white.”

He just stared at his hands absently.

“Stop fucking gripping the wheel like that, Tom, did you want to try and kill us?”

They’d come at a stop near the outside of the bakery and Tommy hadn’t realised that he’d just, stayed fucking still. Couldn’t move, all of a sudden.

“Sorry, we can er, we can get off now.”

He eased his grip and got out, slamming the door slightly harder than necessary and he tried to ignore it when John flinched. 

“Everything’s fine, right? Tommy? Nothing to worry about with the Londoners? Solomons ain’t gonna betray us is he?”

“No, and stop fucking worrying,” leave that to me, “nothing bad’ll happen to you.”

John relaxed and Tommy wondered if he could say the same for himself.

“Hello Ollie.” They came to a stop outside of the doors and Ollie just eyed them in suspicion. 

“Hello Mr Shelby. Who’s he, then?”

“This is my brother, John,” he’s my fucking protection, “we’re here for our meeting.”

Out the corner of his eye, he could see John squaring slightly, as though he was expecting Ollie to fight him. Fucking Ollie.

“Come in then.”

Ollie led them in, but Tommy couldn’t help but think that he was acting fucking weirdly. Fuck, maybe Alfie had planned something and he wondered if him and John would die and his last words would be a fucking lie. No use in crying about it; he’d told plenty of lies.

There was a burst of fire and John fixed his eyes on it, and Tommy desperately wished that his first thought was about how the alcohol making process was so very fucking complex or something else fucking mundane, or maybe that he hoped that John wouldn’t try and drink himself to death, something a good brother would think, but no, no, all he saw was fire and his mind in its visceral fucking reaction decided now was the time to think about the last time he’d been near a fire with any proximity to Alfie. 

He’d deny it to his last breath. No one had to know he thought of Alfie beyond their interactions, same as how they didn’t know what some of those interactions had contained.

He tried to clear his head and he did, somewhat, and he fucking realised something.

“Ollie, there were more bakers here before. Where the fuck have they gone?”

“Some of Sabini’s territories needed a firm hand, sweetie.”

Fuck, Alfie. He stepped out of the shadows like some sort of spectre. A ghost. Materialised out of nowhere. Or maybe Tommy was just losing it.

“And you didn’t go yourself?” He couldn’t help it.

“Well I would’ve, mate, I would’ve, but Ollie here, he started inquiring after my health, s’though he were my fucking servant,” his hand came down to slap Ollie’s shoulder, “and he said to me, Alfie, if you go you will hurt yourself and I said, quite reasonably, right, out of respect for your well wishes for me, I will stay, especially since it means I will therefore not have to hurt you or the mighty Mr Shelby and,” he turned to John, with a raised eyebrow.

John straightened his back. “John Shelby. Shareholder.”

“And his family, by snubbing them.” He paused. “You are right though, sweetie, that I should’ve gone,” Tommy hadn’t said anything close to that, “because I, unlike many of my fucking employees, some of which are before you right now,” It was only Ollie and a few men in the back, the ones responsible for the explosion, “do have a firm hand, don’t I?”

Tommy tried to keep his face impassive.

John, now that he was faced with Alfie, seemed to remember something because he looked fucking angry. Tommy wondered what it was and, right. He’d nearly fucking forgotten what Alfie had done to Billy Kitchen and by extension, Arthur. How the fuck did he manage that?

Alfie noticed. John’s expression, that is. “You got something to say, mate?”

John just glared, but he deflated slightly in what Tommy could only assume was Alfie’s sheer presence. If he hadn’t faced bigger, Tommy might have too. Well, he said bigger, he just happened to have been young at the time. Small.

“No.”

“Good, good, I do appreciate it, but I cannot, in good faith, ask you to be in a meeting with me, can I? Heard you visited your brother in prison.”

John seemed surprised, at the knowledge as well as the fact that conversation was being made, but he nodded slightly.

“Yeah, I did.”

“In which case you, unlike your brother here, had to have seen the state dear Arthur was in. I have apologised to my own God, right, for abusing a holy day, I promise, and I wouldn’t want to hurt the feelings of the Shelbys any further than I have so I do not expect your forgiveness. I can accept that. Mainly ‘cause I’m not sorry.” John startled at that. “Yeah. Yeah, end of the day, s’all business. You don’t seem to understand that, mate, saw it soon as you fucking came in, didn’t I? Your brother does, so I will speak with him,” he turned to Tommy and he felt the surroundings fade slightly, “I will speak to you, Tommy, alone.”

He turned to John again. “But, as a way of showing I can rise above all this, I will let you stay here, right. Ollie’ll take care of you. Shareholder, innit? Makes you a boss, don’t it? Yeah, s’good that. Ollie, get the brown rum for him. Two of you can share.”

_Brown stuff’s horrible, s’for the workers._

Tommy tamped down a smile, fucking Alfie, couldn’t stop being a bastard, probably not even if his life depended on it, not even if the other person couldn’t even understand it. 

Maybe it was part of the fun for him. Tommy understood it though, and Alfie knew that because he suddenly was facing him, eyes alight with amusement. It was attractive. 

_Fuck, it was attractive._

It was also comforting, knowing they were on the same side for now, and Tommy ignored a very morbid fucking part of him that wondered what Alfie actually looked like when he was betraying someone. Tommy had only heard what had happened from Arthur, who had been drunk at the time, and then the doctored part from the witnesses.

_Had you turned up mate, to that Passover celebration, I wouldn’t have hurt you. Might not have gone through with the whole thing. Because you, right, are the one I did a deal with. I don’t give a fuck ‘bout your soldiers though._

It hadn’t felt like he’d betrayed Tommy. Maybe that was evil of him, to not care. Alfie had detached himself from it because Tommy wasn’t there, it wasn’t personal, and Tommy, for all it was his brother who could’ve died, couldn’t give a fuck either. Arthur had lived after all. Nothing to be sorry about.

“Right, Ollie, John, both of you can fuck off, right, I don’t care, but I will be taking Mr Shelby here to my office, now, for fear of whatever shit you may or may not get up to on your fucking alcohol. I come back here to find any fucking damage to any of these premises, I’ll have your fucking heads.”

John looked ready to start a fight but backed away a little when Tommy just looked at him. Alfie watched the exchange with a frightening level of scrutiny.

“Mm. Come on then Tommy, right this way.”

As they turned a corner, Tommy became aware of just how few people were in the bakery. There were none anywhere near Alfie’s office, none in this whole fucking side of the building. 

Him and Alfie had been walking side by side, Alfie only slightly in front of him, in complete silence, and when they came to the door, Alfie held it open for him.

Something about it being an enclosed space made it worse than the rest of the bakery for being alone. 

He stood still without meaning to and when Alfie closed the door (why was he closing the door?) he was suddenly so close but Tommy couldn’t see him.

Alfie’s voice was a whisper, “Why are you standing around mate, did you need my permission to sit down?”

The words grated against his skin.

He moved to sit across from Alfie except Alfie wasn’t fucking sat down, was he? He leaned against the desk next to where Tommy was sat and watched him with an inscrutable expression.

“I came here to do business, Alfie.”

“I know sweetie, I know, s’that why you’re wearing this fucking tie so tight ‘round your neck?”

He took it out of Tommy’s waistcoat to tug it in some form of demonstration before rubbing his thumb in circles against the material, before letting it go. It hung outside of the waistcoat and he didn’t move to tuck it back in. Suddenly, he wanted to rip it off of himself.

Tommy had worn it tight. To hide the markings. They had taken (and were taking) a long fucking time to heal, no different to the other bruises he’d received in life. Except for in every way that mattered.

Most of them were some sickly green now, and even though they were faded, they still stuck out. He needed to hide them. It was funny, now that he thought about it, he’d never had to hide his less than perfect states from Alfie. He’d never been the cause before.

“Alfie. We need to talk about your bookies.”

Alfie hummed and moved to sit in his chair, and Tommy could feel the loss of his presence acutely.

“Yeah, what about them Tommy?”

“What ones need to be present or not. At different races.”

“My men are already moving in on his territories.”

“So you said. I notice we didn’t discuss that.”

“Well, Tommy, they’re only taking the areas that were rightfully mine, innit? Ones Sabini had taken off of me. As for the bookies, well, I’ll be wanting the same amount, if not more, present at the races as before Sabini started running them off.”

“And how many would that be?”

“Ninety-nine percent of all bookies being mine.”

“You’re not funny.”

Alfie laughed. Fuck. It caught him slightly off guard that Alfie’s laugh wasn’t loud, booming. He didn’t know why it’s what he expected. It was more quiet. Maybe he did have louder laughs, maybe he just hadn’t heard them. Maybe he’d lost the ability to be loud in happiness during the war. No fucking matter.

“Tommy, mate, what the fuck have I said about disappearing?”

They were looking at each other now, and the line was enough to remind Tommy about what happened two weeks ago. Not that he fucking forgot.

“I’m right here, Alfie.”

“Mm. Yeah, alright, and we’ll pretend that was always the case then. I’m generous like that, sweetie, a very giving man, ain’t I?”

Tommy tried not to think about what exactly it was that Alfie Solomons gave.

“I do have to ask, sweetie, why you came here for this, ‘cause, thing is yeah, this would only warrant a phone call, innit? No long discussion needed. Just you letting my bookies in to the races is all and I say 'letting' loosely because I don’t ask for permission, sweetie.”

Tommy ignored that. “If I didn’t let them, what’d happen? You’d not have Sabini to run to, either.”

He sighed. “I betrayed your enterprise,” he didn’t say ’you’, “and you came back to make a deal.”

“To get Arthur out.”

“You would’ve been able to do that either way. Point is, I’m very charming, ain’t I? Got a handsome face an’ all to boot,” Tommy tried not to think about how he agreed, “and, through no fault of their own, people are drawn to me, ain’t they? So, you came back, as I said, and in the same way, if I tried, I could get Sabini on my side.”

“That wouldn’t help you. He wouldn’t give you any better deal.”

“Yeah, but end of the day, me and him are friends, ain’t we? Since school, actually. Some would say I owe more loyalty to him anyways. If you betrayed me, I really would be upset with you Tommy,” fucking hypocrite, “but I would go back to Sabini and see if he’d help me ruin you, which I wouldn’t prefer because I’d rather do it myself.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“So not even for your own benefit, just to blow my enterprise into bits?”

“Yeah, I would, I would. Just to see you crumble. Imagine that. Tommy Shelby brought to his knees,” fuck, “entirely helpless.”

Tommy could feel his heart beating in his ears.

Alfie clapped his hands together, “No matter though, ‘cause you wouldn’t do that, would you? Which brings me back to my initial question, which you fucking avoided, mate, about why exactly you came here when you could’ve just phoned.”

“You told Ollie to set a meeting, Mr Solomons, and that is the only piece of business we have.”

“Business?”

“What fucking else.”

His tone came out slightly harsher than he’d intended, but Alfie was smiling, like he knew something Tommy didn’t.

“What have you told Ollie?”

“He knows no more than anyone else.”

“My sister knows. Does he know the same as her?”

“Nah, he hasn’t seen the marks on your neck, has he. I can’t see ‘em either, actually.” He reached over to Tommy’s collar, but the desk was between them and Tommy could’ve avoided his hand with ease, tucking his tie back in as he did it, but he stayed still and Alfie just pulled the collar back slightly to look at the green. He hummed and then just let him go. Easy as that.

“So he knows.”

“I had to tell him, see, was minding my own fucking business and I’d taken off my coat and had only my shirt on, didn’t I? He could see blood seeping through it. Some cunt scratched my back out.”

Tommy had forgotten he’d done that. He felt slightly embarrassed but the larger part of him, no longer a whisper in the back of his head, was glad that Alfie had marks on him.

“Why’d you call? Or have Ollie call,” Alfie had opened his mouth to correct him and Tommy wasn’t in the mood. Didn’t know what kind of mood he was in.

“Well Tommy, you’re taking my rum into shipments, aren’t you? I changed the recipe for the Americans. I want you to taste it.”

“You want me to have rum?” 

“Yeah. Here you go.”

He pulled a bottle out of God knows where and placed it on the desk. Might have been the same drawer he kept his gun. Or not. Never fucking knew.

“There’s no glass.”

“Just drink from the bottle, mate, I’m not calling anyone from the other fucking end of the bakery for this, I’m not in the business of doing favours.”

Tommy thought about the car. Alfie had picked him up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, not unless it benefits me.”

Fuck. 

Tommy took a swig and when he looked back Alfie’s eyes looked darker than they had before. 

“You got some on your lips.”

“It’s too sweet, Alfie.”

“Americans like sweet stuff Tommy, and part of me despises them for it, ‘course it does, fucking Americans, ain’t they? But at the same time, sweetie, I do understand them because I like sweet things too.”

He reached over again, and Tommy stayed still, again, and he didn’t know why he was fucking doing that. 

Alfie swiped his thumb against Tommy’s lips before bringing his hand to his own mouth. He licked his thumb. 

“It is sweet, innit? Don’t know how they stand it.”

“I thought you didn’t drink.”

“I make exceptions, same as how I make exceptions with doing favours.”

“Only when it benefits you?”

“Yeah.”

Bastard.

“Either way, that wasn’t enough to have known whether it was sweet. You should drink some of it.”

“Don’t need to rely on my tongue, do I? I use my nose, mate, and it works out just as well.”

Then why the fuck had he- never fucking mind. The sun would rise from the west before Alfie ever made any fucking sense. If he didn’t deliberately contradict himself to annoy people.

“Would you like me to demonstrate?”

“Go ahead.”

Alfie reached into the drawer and pulled out a glass.

Tommy just exhaled and looked to the sky like he wanted an answer, “Fucking bastard.”

“What was that, sweetie?” Alfie was smiling, but his eyes were still dark.

“Alfie, you once said rum is for fun and fucking.” He didn’t know why he said that.

“Yeah, and aren’t we having fun?”

“I’m not.”

“What can I do to change that for you? Hm? For Tommy Shelby?”

Alfie leaned in, and his lamp shone through the bottle and the light it cast on him reminded Tommy, inexplicably, of the night by the fire. Probably because part of him was already thinking about it.

He shifted in his seat.

Alfie narrowed his eyes at that and leaned back in his chair. Relaxed. Resting. Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone acting like that, not to him. Alfie was propositioning him, almost in the same breath as he’d threatened to fucking overthrow him, and he looked relaxed as he did it. 

He was used to the fucking aggressors, who got in your face, threatened you ineffectually and acted like a leader when they couldn’t command one man, never mind an army. 

Alfie had done this before, the leaning back. He’d done it when he asked Tommy for his plan, first time he’d met him.

Not to say he hadn’t been fucking aggressive. He’d pointed a gun at him. Beaten a man with a cane. For nothing. It came easy. 

Tommy had seen that. Alfie leaning back did nothing to calm his nerves because he'd acted calmly before, hadn't he? He’d been quiet, quiet, quiet, and then he’d shown his violence. 

Alfie could kill him right now. He could, he could take out a gun and shoot him and it would go bone, mush, bone and hit the cabinet behind him.

“Anything, Mr Solomons. You could do anything to make this fun.”

Alfie looked, at first glance, like a man who was unhinged. He acted like it sometimes. He was far too calculating though. Tommy could see it. 

“Anything?”

“Yeah.”

Alfie leaned even further back, looked up to the ceiling and muttered something Tommy couldn’t understand.

“Do you trust yourself to stop me, Tommy?”

“No.” No, he didn’t, he really fucking didn’t.

“Do you want to stop me?” His voice was a whisper. 

His heart stopped, momentarily.

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tommy brought so many (two) people specifically so he wouldn't be alone with Alfie and yet here he is. Poor him


	2. the transgressions are worth it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie says Alfie things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know what to say here.

“Come here, sweetie.”

The voice left no room for question but that was fine, Tommy was used to this, to submitting for his own ends. He stood and came to a stop near Alfie’s feet.

He just didn’t know what exactly the goal was yet.

He gestured to the space next to him. “Lean up against this desk, don’t be shy.” 

Tommy bristled.

“There we go, sweet as anything, aren’t you?”

Alfie was still leaning against the back of the chair, face still to the fucking ceiling, but his eyes were watching Tommy, he could feel it. 

Alfie’s hand came up, rested on Tommy’s thigh, not doing anything. Laying in wait. Tommy didn’t have anything to be paying attention, not unless he started thinking about how exactly it felt to have Alfie’s hand wrapping itself around his thigh, so he looked at the tattoo there. A crown.

“What are you thinking of, treacle?”

Tommy understood with a sudden burning clarity why Alfie had wanted him in the moment. He wasn’t paying enough attention and Tommy wanted Alfie to look at him, if only to see if Alfie was affected by this. But he was just looking up.

“Your uh, your tattoo. A crown, does that mean anything?” 

“Yeah it does, it does.” He just went silent.

He hadn’t fucking realised that Alfie’s silence could be so disconcerting. 

“You have them on both hands, right? What do they mean?”

Alfie looked at him now, turned his head around completely, and he forgot why he wanted it in the first place. His knees felt weak and his mind went fucking blank. Somehow, Alfie’s hand felt like it was burning him. 

“Well, Tommy, s’quite simple,” he was looking in his eyes now, couldn’t look away, and Alfie didn’t look like he was going to move either, “Originally, right, was only gonna get one, so I did, that’d be the one on you right now,” He moved his hand slightly up in demonstration and Tommy couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, “But back then, didn’t have my glasses, did I? Couldn’t see the future. And God took pity on me, looked down at my pathetic self, ‘cause that’s what I used to be, and said Alfie, mate, listen here, you have to get another one. So I, being the contrary cunt that I am, I asked dear God, why?” He stood up and his hand remained on Tommy’s thigh, and it ended up slightly higher and Tommy clung to the desk behind him and hoped Alfie couldn’t see it. “Do you wanna know what God said?”

Alfie was going to tell him anyways, irrespective of the answer and Tommy was burning with something, part arousal and part sheer fucking curiosity. “Yeah.”

Alfie leaned in to whisper in his ear and it was part reprieve because he was no longer looking but he was also so close and Tommy could feel the heat coming off of him. “He said to me, one is to show the whole fucking world that you are like a king, powerful, able to do whatever you want,” the hand on his thigh moved completely upwards now and Tommy tried not to gasp at the sensation, at Alfie touching his cock like it fucking belonged to him or something, but he must have made some noise because Alfie interrupted himself to hum.

Tommy could feel it because he was still against his ear.

“And the other?” 

Alfie moved back again to look at him, but he was still so fucking close. 

“The other, the one I was told to get by God, was ‘cause, as He reasoned, I would eventually come across a man who is an equal, wouldn’t I?” He positioned his hand on Tommy’s head. “Should put a crown on his head, to humble myself.”

“God told you to tattoo a crown on yourself-”

“He did, mate.”

“-for me?”

“Yeah, for an equal. Do you doubt me, Thomas?”

Christ he was fucking ridiculous. “So God wanted you to do all of this? This was fucking meant to be or something?”

All of this being the fact that Alfie had a hand pressed against his forehead and the other palming his cock and somehow, this was God’s will.

“Well if it wasn’t meant to happen, sweetie, you would be able to move. So go. Try.”

He hated the fact that he didn’t try to escape. Just stayed still. He hated it.

Alfie looked at him with an expression that, if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought was soft. Alfie moved the hand from his forehead to stroke Tommy’s cheek, letting his hand just cradle it. Tommy hated it. Alfie didn’t even have the decency to be rough with him after he’d told him he wouldn’t be able to move.

“What’s wrong, treacle, hm? Where did you go?”

“Should I even want this?” He hadn’t meant for that to come out.

“You having this doubt because I am a man or ‘cause I’m Alfie Solomons?”

“Because I-” He wondered if he should say anything. He could stay silent. He didn’t want to trust Alfie, but he didn’t think the man would hurt him in spite of it all. Not like this.

“Because I’m not in control like this.”

Alfie raised an eyebrow at the answer. He hadn’t expected it.

“Who says you aren’t?” As he said it, he moved both hands to the back of Tommy’s thighs and lifted him onto the desk. Like this, he had to look up at Alfie. 

“I’m not, Alfie.”

“Just said you are my equal, Tommy. You have control. As do I.”

Alfie brought his hand up to Tommy’s face again and then leaned down so their foreheads touched. It felt too intimate but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to move away.

“And if I don’t mind,” he swallowed, “if I don’t mind giving it away? What then? Am I no longer an equal?”

“If you gave me control then I wouldn’t be taking it away, would I? It’d still be in your hands. But you’d be right, you wouldn’t be an equal would you? You’d be far too generous, better than me, at the very least, much as anyone could be,” Alfie moved in between his legs and Tommy’s breath hitched. His grip got tighter on the ends of the desk and it caught Alfie’s attention, so he took hold of both of his hands and brought them to the back of his own neck and Tommy wrapped himself around him, no other way to keep balance. 

“You’d never lose control unless you wanted to. Not entirely. Which is a shame, a real shame, because I want to ruin you,” Tommy’s grip got tighter, “Want to see you lose it,” Alfie tilted his chin up, “Want you to be utterly fucking gone. Do you think that’s bad, Tommy? Do you think it is a sin?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Mmm.” Tommy felt that reverberate through him. “I shouldn’t want to bring you down.”

“You’re welcome to try.”

Alfie pulled him in to kiss him and Tommy let him. He was letting him. That’s what Alfie had said. 

He didn’t know if it was all true though. He didn’t know if Alfie could ruin him, entirely, utterly, if he chose to try. Would he try?

Alfie pulled back suddenly and looked at his tie like it had caused him a personal offence. Tommy didn’t want to explain why it had been torn to shreds to anyone so he just pulled the knot apart and threw the tie next to himself before pulling Alfie back in. John was somewhere in this fucking building. He’d nearly forgotten.

Alfie kissed like it was his fucking job and Tommy felt some part of his resolve weaken every time it happened. No telling what could happen.

He pushed him away and Alfie went, easy as that. “Alfie, we can’t, we can’t fuck, they’ll know. I don’t want to fucking limp back into the room and have fucking John know.”

Alfie looked gleeful for a second, “Yeah alright, just tell me something treacle, when you said you’d let me do anything, that meant you were going to let me stick my cock in you? Bend you over my desk?” The thought was distracting. Alfie hadn’t put him in that position before. “And all that’s stopping you is your brother out there?”

No point in fucking lying now. “Yeah.”

“Fuuuuck me, mate. I’ll consider that,” Jesus fucking Christ, “Just wasn’t what I had in mind for right now.”

“And what did you have in mind?”

Alfie just leaned in to kiss his neck. He was being gentle with it. Just one feather light kiss and it made him ache.

“Fucking hell, was gonna say before but these are all faded, aren’t they? It’s a fucking tragedy, sweetie.”

“Alfie, you can’t. They’ll fucking see.”

“Mm, yeah. Alright.”

Tommy exhaled in relief, no fucking telling what Alfie would do on any given day, and he didn’t know what to fucking expect, but then Alfie knelt down, and slid him off the desk as he did it, so he was standing, legs slightly far apart, Alfie in between them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Ain’t it obvious?”

The way Tommy saw it, when someone was kneeling down, it was a degrading position to be put in. You’d be powerless. Alfie didn’t look powerless though, pulling his trousers down and letting his breath ghost over his cock. The visual was so fucking distracting.

“Already hard aren’t you? All that talk got you excited did it?”

Jesus fuck, it worse like this. The talk. Didn’t feel the same when someone could walk in. See him with his cock out and Alfie looking like he was ready to devour him, which wouldn’t be far off from what he was about to do. If that were to happen, who the fuck would it be more embarrassing for? Alfie was the one who would be taking a cock in his mouth.

Alfie licked a stripe against his cock. “Hmm.”

Tommy could hear his own breathing and nothing else, Alfie was silent.

Alfie got close again and Tommy braced himself for the sensation but he didn’t take him into his mouth. Started to trail his lips against his thighs. 

“Alfie what the fuck are you doing?” His voice came out slightly breathless.

“Well you have stopped me from leaving marks on your neck, haven’t you? I’m leaving them here. Make sure people know what you’ve done so no one else tries to fuck you, sweetie.”

He wouldn’t let anyone else fuck him. Not like how he’d let Alfie. Fuck. “What makes you think marks would stop them?”

“Don’t make me jealous. But if they did, then you would eventually come right back, wouldn’t you?” He hated that Alfie sounded confident saying that. “Right here. How do you think I’d feel if I found out you’d fucked someone else, mate?”

Alfie looked up at him now, lips swollen and pink and Tommy felt a sudden rush of arousal at the sight. It wasn’t fucking fair. Alfie didn’t even look affected.

“Don’t care.”

Alfie responded by returning his attention to his thighs, and Tommy looked down to see his skin littered with fucking red patches, not helped by Alfie’s beard which was scraping against the skin he’d left tender.

He thought, eventually, he’d fucking stop, but Alfie kept on going and Tommy could do nothing but watch. They would take forever to fucking disappear. Alfie wasn’t even doing anything about his cock. It’s not like he couldn’t fucking see it.

Tommy started to feel something that seemed a lot like desperation.

“Alfie.”

“Hmm?” He pulled back. “S’there something you wanted?”

Tommy just looked down, Alfie still on his knees, feigning obliviousness. Fucking bastard.

“Your knees must fucking ache.” _Hurry the fuck up, you bastard. For both our sakes._

“Very considerate of you, Tommy, very lovely, you’re absolutely right, this’ll be fucking hell when I get up. And that’d be a fucking embarrassment if anyone saw it, wouldn’t it? Marks on my knees. Could you imagine that? Letting someone disrupt a basic function like walking for me? Imagine if someone did that, Tommy, just ponder for a second if you let someone use you for their own pleasure and then you just couldn’t walk after, had to be carried or something.”

Fucking bastard. “It’d almost be as bad as letting someone scratch into you and actually enjoying it.”

Alfie just stared up at him and Tommy wondered if he’d made a mistake mentioning that when Alfie suddenly stood up. He looked taller than him. 

He didn’t know how the fuck Alfie could move that quickly, but he couldn’t really think about it because Alfie lifted him on the desk again, putting him on the edge and working his trousers off. Tommy was bare from the hips down by the end of it. Alfie sat back down on his chair, moving it so he was in between Tommy’s legs again. 

“Alfie, you have papers on this desk.”

“Mm. Contracts ain’t they? I’ve written all over them. They’d earn me thousands. And yet, here you are, still the most valuable thing on this here fucking desk.” He lifted Tommy’s legs over his shoulders and got closer to him. “My pretty little canvas, aren’t you?” 

Alfie started rubbing circles on his thighs, near the marks, each hand braced on either side, holding him in place. He grinned at him. 

Tommy wanted to fucking claw at him again but before he could say anything, do anything, Alfie took the head of his cock into his mouth and he almost hissed at the sensation.

“Fuck, Alfie.” 

Alfie hummed around the head but didn’t make any move to take the rest of him into his mouth, just started circling his tongue around the head.

Tommy didn’t know where to put his hands but if he didn’t try to steady himself, Alfie might just push him onto his back and just leave him there, repeating this fucking motion again and again until he begged. 

Tommy reached his hands into Alfie’s hair, drawing them to the back of his head. He didn’t know whether to pull him further down on his cock but if he didn’t, Alfie wasn’t going to let him come. 

He could hear his own breathing become more shallow and he bucked slightly, but Alfie just let his grip tighten and Tommy could feel the rings digging into him. They’d leave a fucking mark as well. 

He became lightheaded at the thought. 

“Alfie, please just fucking-”

He lifted himself up with an obscene sound, and tilted his head in question. His lips were wet with saliva and Tommy could feel his own cock leaking and he couldn’t fucking take it.

“Please what, sweetie? Hm?”

He couldn’t say the fucking words.

Alfie just waited for him and his smile widened with every beat that passed. 

“Mm, look at you. Good enough to eat aren’t you?”

Tommy groaned, part in frustration and part in fucking arousal, couldn’t help it.

“Should see the colour in your cheeks, almost as pink as your fucking cock.” 

“Jesus Christ shut the fuck up.”

“Yeah alright, as you wish, sweetie.”

Alfie swallowed him down, and Tommy almost cried in relief, didn’t know why he was so fucking desperate for it, and he was glad that Alfie was holding him into place because he might have collapsed if he hadn’t been. 

It was over quickly after that, and Tommy lay against the desk, no choice left because he needed to catch his fucking breath.

“You aware of the sounds you make like that, mate?”

Alfie’s voice sounded slightly ruined and Tommy looked at him now. His hair was sticking up where Tommy had gripped it, but his beard managed to hide any bruising around his mouth. 

“No, but you have told me about it before.”

“Belongs in a symphony, don’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“How many other people have made you sound like that?”

Tommy glared at him.

“Just asking mate, if you always go high pitched like that, for everyone?”

“Yeah. Every single one. You’re not special.”

“Mm, ‘course not.” He sounded smug.

Tommy’s breathing caught up and he lifted himself so he was resting on his elbows.

“What about you?”

“What about me, mate?”

“How many people have you done that for?”

“What? Sucked them off?”

“Yeah.”

Alfie scratched his beard. “A few.”

“And how many have sucked you off?”

“I’ve lost count, mate.”

“Right.”

“Yeah. And just out of curiosity, how many women have you fucked?”

“I’ve lost count.”

“Exactly. So stop making that fucking face.”

“What face?”

“That face, Tommy. Looks a lot like jealousy.” Tommy lifted himself off the desk so that he was sitting and like this, he was looking down at Alfie but he still didn’t feel powerful.

“S’not fucking jealousy.”

“Don’t be so defensive, sweetie, it suits you. You look pretty.” He brought up his hand to the side of Tommy’s face and he slapped it away.

“It’s not jealousy.”

“No? Then what is it?”

Tommy looked down and he could see that Alfie was still fucking hard. If Alfie put it in his mouth, he wouldn’t know what to fucking do.

“Tommy, look here sweetie, I’m not expecting you to return the fucking favour.”

“I don’t need you to be fucking soft with me.”

“I already said I don’t do favours, mate, one reason I’m acting like this is ‘cause if I had you on your knees, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself, would I? I’ve seen what you look like with fingers in your mouth, sweetie, and if I were to have my cock on your tongue, don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from going all the way in,” Tommy wanted to look away, but Alfie reached his hand up to grab hold of his face and hold him into place, “Look at these lips, hm? I can imagine them wrapped around me, Tommy, and I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t spill immediately. They’d be such a pretty pink.” He used one of his fingers to trace a pattern against his lower lip. 

Tommy tried to move his head but Alfie wasn’t giving him any leeway. His knees felt weak. “Don’t even get me started on your eyes. Can see them watering already. Looking up at me. It’d be fucking indecent. I’d be condemned to fucking hell for eternity, and I’d get the worst fucking punishment for my transgressions, for keeping you all to myself.”

“You were already going to go to hell.”

“Yeah I know, I know but-”

God knows what Alfie was going to say after that, but Tommy kissed him to shut him up. Alfie’s hand was still gripping his face, and when Tommy pulled away he dragged him by the legs until he was sat on his lap. Tommy could feel Alfie’s erection against his leg and he panted at the sensation. 

Alfie worked a hand around himself and Tommy watched him, transfixed. 

“Fucking hell, come here you fucking-”

Alfie used his other hand to pull Tommy in by the back of his neck and Tommy let him pant into his mouth as he fucked into his own hand. 

When Alfie finally came, he brought his hand away and reached for something to wipe it away with but Tommy brought the hand up to his mouth.

Alfie looked fucking delighted. “What are you doing there, mate?”

Tommy couldn’t explain the sudden urge but he licked away at the remnants on Alfie’s hand.

“Fucking hell.”

Alfie pulled him in to kiss him and Tommy was acutely aware of the fact that they’d both swallowed each other’s cum and that this was fucking filthy. He pressed in harder.

-

“Did the meeting go well then?”

“Yeah.”

“Is everything sorted out?”

“Yeah, it was fine from before, John. Just needed to iron out some details.”

“Right. Oi, Tommy, could you drop me off here?”

“The club?”

“Yeah, London women are something, Tom. Though you already know that, we all saw your fucking love bites, good for you. Me and Arthur thought you'd gone fucking celibate.”

“Fuck off.”

John cackled as he got out of the car, and Tommy drove a short distance until he came to a deserted road where he could bury his head in his hands. He was fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Tommy! You really are fucked. We'll see how it goes.


End file.
